


three years and a lifetime

by lvecean



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (bc when not), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Compliant, Flashbacks, Happy Birthday Keith (Voltron), Keithtober 2019, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Season/Series 07, Sharing a Bed, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, between 7 and 8 i think?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 19:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21151124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvecean/pseuds/lvecean
Summary: To Keith, it all seems so painfully obvious.The way his breath had hitched as those words were spoken into reality. Finally leaving the bounds of silvery ink on Keith’s inner wrist. We are a good team. Just like that.He lifts his hand close to his face. Twists it in every direction so the sun will allow him to read the barely-visible ink on his skin.We are a good team.





	three years and a lifetime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [polarisparker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/polarisparker/gifts).

> hello hello!! i am back!!!!  
i'm ashamed to tell you that this whole fic took me 6 months to write.....
> 
> n e ways, this was meant as a bday gift for my bff eva ( [twitter](https://twitter.com/polarisparker) ) but turned into a bday gift for both her and keith lmao. that being said; HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABIES  
eva i love you so so so much you're a whole cutie and i'm sorry this is a thousand years late <3
> 
> the songs i use for the quotes can be found in the end notes!! 
> 
> then, a bit of extra info to make this make more sense: in this universe, people are born with a phrase on their inner wrist that marks a moment that's important for their relationship with their soulmate. so it's not like a first/last sentence kind of thing
> 
> i think this whole thing can be summarized as "there was an attempt" and that's all i'll say about it

_‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ you in my heart ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙_

  


To Keith, it all seems so painfully obvious. 

The way his breath had hitched as those words were spoken into reality. Finally leaving the bounds of silvery ink on Keith’s inner wrist. _ We are a good team. _Just like that. 

He lifts his hand close to his face. Twists it in every direction so the sun will allow him to read the barely-visible ink on his skin. _ We are a good team. We are a good team. _

  


_ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ teach me the courage of the stars ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ _

  


When Keith entered the room, Allura hot on his heels, his eyes landed on Lance’s unconscious body immediately, and his heart stopped. He wouldn’t allow himself to think too deeply about it — the way his breath left his body and his knees felt weak and he was itching to _ touch _ to _ fix _— all he knew was that he couldn’t let this boy get hurt more than he already was. 

Sendak was still standing there, stealing their quintessence with an ugly smile on his misshapen face. 

Allura had attacked and Keith had followed. 

Together they twisted and turned, dancing to a mortal rhythm as they slashed into the Galran armor, looking for any weakness to reveal itself when a lightning blue laser shot past them. It hit the Galra general in his arm and Keith found his hands full of purple armor. He looked to the other side of the room just in time to see Lance’s smirk drop and his head fall back, rifle morphing back into the blue bayard. 

There was no time to celebrate or worry. He fixed his angry glare on the back of the Galra’s head and lifted his sword. He charged forward with a cry.

Keith fell to his knees next to Lance’s unconscious body, the Altean handcuffs clicking behind him as Allura secured their prisoner. His hand was shaking as he placed it on the white of the armor on Lance’s shoulder, gently shaking him. 

The blue paladin’s eyes fluttered open and Keith told himself the swoop in his gut at the sight of those brown orbs was purely because of relief. 

“Lance,” Keith said, ignoring the breathlessness in his voice. He reached out a hand, half expecting Lance to scoff, say something like “I don’t need _ your _ help, mullet” and stand up by himself. (He maybe kind of wished for Lance to do that.) But instead, Lance curled his long fingers around Keith’s shorter ones — _ the perfect fit _, Keith’s mind whispered. Keith used his grip on Lance’s hand to pull him upright a bit and shifted his legs to brace for the added weight. “Are you okay?” 

Lance looked up and— 

Suddenly, the purple light of the room, Pidge and Shiro’s soft voices next to them and the big, unconscious body of the Galra general didn’t matter anymore. It all fell to the background as Lance’s deep brown eyes settled onto Keith. The silver lines and curls on his wrist tingled nervously, expectantly.

(Looking back, this was when he knew.) 

“We did it,” Lance said. “We are a good team.” And he smiled.

Keith’s wrist seemed to be burning up. Pressure building and building and building and— 

Lance’s hand went slack in his and his eyes rolled back and his head fell forward. Keith could only just keep him from breaking his nose. With panic rolling around inside of him and lapping at his heartstrings, he laid Lance down again and pressed his ear against his mouth.

Nothing. 

“Help,” he whispered. “Lance, wake up.” He leaned back, observing Lance’s unmoving eyelashes and wishing he could look into his eyes again and hear him whisper those words again. _ We are a good team. _ “Come on. Come on, Lance.” CPR was futile with the layers upon layers of armor covering the boy’s chest. “You have to wake up. Help me, someone.” 

—The pod, yes. But fast, there was no time to lose. 

—Remove the armor; carefully peeling layers of metal to reveal rich brown skin.

—And then—The waiting. 

—Waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting. 

_ Nope. Don’t remember, didn’t happen. _ And Keith’s heart broke. 

But the words floated around. The silver remained. And Keith _ did _ remember. He didn’t forget. And he was ready to wait some more. The right time would come, Keith decided, and he smiled. 

Three years later and Keith was still waiting.

  


_ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ falling’s easy. but there’s only one way up ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ _

  


“I think we’re there.”

“Is this a good landing place?” 

“It’ll have to do, I guess.” 

“Let those paws hit the floor, guys!”

“Because they’re cats? Good one, Coran!” 

Keith slowly blinks his eyes open. Soft purple light registers to his brain. The same shade as— 

Shiro is leaning over him. “Hey, buddy,” he says, brushing Keith’s bangs away as if he is still the same twelve year old kid. “You awake?” 

Keith lifts himself up on his elbows and nods. He rubs his eyes with balled-up hands and ignores Shiro’s amused grin. “Are we there yet?” he croaks. 

White bangs move as Shiro nods. “Yep. So you better start getting ready. Kosmo needs to stretch his legs anyway.” With groaning joints, Shiro stands up from his crouch. Keith snickers. _ Old man. _

Blinking a few times, Keith sighs and swings his legs over the edge of the small bed in the back of the Black Lion. One look at the shiny mirror on the wall in front of him tells him that, huh, maybe Shiro is onto something with that whole “getting a haircut” business of his. 

When he walks out of Black’s mouth, he gets a chestful of space wolf. Kosmo’s wide paws are placed on his shoulders as the wolf’s big snout pushes against his cheek and his neck. Keith laughs and wraps his arms around the big, cuddly wolf. 

“Yeah. Okay, big guy,” he says around a mouthful of blue fur. “Okay. I get it, you missed me.” When Kosmo finally deems he’s gotten enough pets, he backs off and Keith can breathe again. 

Soft snickers reach his ear. He looks up to see Lance leaning against Red’s paw. 

Sometimes Keith forgets. He forgets that he has Lance as his right-hand man, that he is supposed to lead a team through a war. He forgets that he’s no longer Red’s little cub, but Black’s equal. He forgets that he’s no longer the scared twelve-year-old kid that Shiro picked up. Sometimes Keith forgets that, somehow, he grew up. 

Lance is smiling. And— it suits him. But Keith already knew that. His wrist tingles. 

“What?” he says. Once upon a time it would’ve sounded like _ what? _; venomous. 

Lance shakes his head and pushes away from Red, waving his hand at the big Lion in a dismissive gesture, reminding Keith of their shared bond. “Nothing,” Lance says, still smiling. 

Keith scowls and scratches Kosmo’s ears. He can now reach them without having to bow down. 

“It’s just,” Lance stops, seems to be considering something. His eyes trail over Keith’s face. Up his scar and down his hair, waver at his lips and stop at his eyes. He shakes his head. “Nothing.” 

Keith thinks for a moment, considers the butterflies in his stomach. His wrist tingles. “Okay,” he says. Simple. 

“Okay,” Lance says. And he smiles.

Keith smiles back. They’re just— smiling. 

“So,” Lance says, “you coming?” He points a thumb over his shoulder. Keith follows it, there’s just… trees. At his questioning gaze, Lance says, “They found a motel, or something.”

Keith shakes his head and looks down at the wolf at his feet. “No. Not yet.” He looks up at Lance. “This guy needs a walk.” 

Brown eyes flit from the panting wolf to its long-haired owner. He smiles again and his brown eyes sparkle. Taking a step forward, he says, “Mind the extra company?” 

_ No, _ Keith thinks, _ never. _ He shrugs and says, “Nah.” And with that, he turns around and starts a random way into the thick vegetation. Kosmo’s soft footfalls and Lance’s sogging boots behind him. 

The trees on this planet (Keith has no idea what it’s called, having slept through the team’s discussions) are weird transparent things. Their insides, the veins that spread in complicated patterns underneath their thick skin, completely open to the world to see. Small, strange-looking insects that make Keith’s skin itch crawl underneath the surface and he quickly averts his eyes. Yuck. 

“So,” Lance says from behind him. Keith didn’t dare look over his shoulder. Afraid what the sight of the other boy surrounded by lilac moonlight would do to him. “How are you?” 

That was… not at all what Keith was expecting. The combination of Lance’s soft voice and the simple, but incredibly heartfelt question makes Keith’s heart stutter. He presses his eyes closed and it’s honestly a miracle he doesn’t trip over one of the almost invisible roots. “Um. Yeah, I’m- I’m good.” He swallows. Hating to lie to this boy. But he can’t say— 

His wrist aches. 

“How about… What about you?” 

God. This is awkward. Keith looks down at the wolf next to him and scowls at the judgemental set of his eyes. _ Like you’d do any better. _He rolls his eyes and Kosmo huffs.

“Yeah,” Lance’s voice is soft and timid when it breaks the silence. “Me too. I guess.” 

Sensing there’s more to be said, Keith swallows and asks, “You guess?”

Lance stays silent. Keith swats a low hanging branch and tries not to hold his breath as he waits for Lance to answer. He chooses instead to focus on Kosmo and his cheerful pants and small _ wroof _s as he sniffs and explores the alien forest. 

Keith pushes his way through the thick vegetation and almost forgets about the question he’d asked when he sees what lays beyond the bush. 

The freaky translucent trees have made way for a small clearing with deep violet grass-like plants fluffing up from the ground and making small _ squish squish _ noises at every step. A small stream cuts through the carpet of grass and the stars play catch on her surface. Tiny purple dots float through the air, casting their purple light on the air around them. Keith is not sure whether the fireflies are translucent like the trees and adopt the purple color from the moon, or if purple is a reoccurring theme on this planet. Either way, the whole atmosphere seems to change to something infinitely more magical. 

Keith falls silent. He breathes in deeply and closes his eyes. The night is beautiful, this planet is beautiful and, the voice in the back of his head whispers, Lance is too. The thought warms his heart and flushes his face. But when he turns around and finds Lance gazing up to the sky with those eyes of it, angles of his face softened by the lilac light of the moon, he can’t help but agree. 

His amazement at the other’s features lasts only so long when he finally registers the tense set of his eyebrows and the barely-noticeable purse of his lips. 

Lance is thinking hard about something. 

Keith holds his breath. . 

Finally, Lance meets Keith’s eyes and he says. “I died, Keith.” 

And Keith— stops. Just stops. He unclenches his fists, the tension drains from his shoulders and he holds his breath. The sincerity in Lance’s voice tells him the boy’s not joking around. The inside of his wrist aches a bit more. “You… what?” 

He hears more than sees Lance exhale a deep breath. His brown eyes flit up to the sky again, as if drawing courage from the moon. 

Lance is— close. Closer than Keith thinks is good for his heart. But also_ not close enough. _ He wants to pull Lance into him, wrap him up in his arms and kiss the top of his head. Show him his wrist, the words that are written for him, and say, _ look, we’re one and the same, you and me. _

But, at least for now, the worried crease in Lance’s eyebrows lets him focus on the situation at hand. That situation being— 

“I- I died.” Lance’s eyes find his again, sad and apologetic. “There, uhh, were these lightning bolts, and they were going to hit Allura so I-” He clenches his hands and then slowly unclenches them as he releases a deep breath. Keith can only watch as Lance — his _ soulmate _ , who _ died _ — struggles to utter the words. “I jumped in front of her and- it hit Red instead.” His eyes flit up to the sky, reflecting the moon against a beautiful brown background. “And then… I died.” 

He concludes his story with a small, almost apologizing smile shot Keith’s way. 

Keith still has trouble breathing. Somewhere, he’d known that while he was away with the blades, and later with Krolia on the space whale, that Voltron hadn’t magically ceased to exist. The paladins hadn’t gone on one big vacation together — they’d _ fought. _They’d won battles and lost them, gained allies and lost them and they’d gotten hurt in the process. 

_ Stupid _ , Keith thinks, _ stupid. _ Of course they’d gotten hurt, they were fighting an intergalactic war that’s been raging for over 10.000 years. And— 

People die in wars. 

Keith had just never realized that Lance.

—his soulmate.

That Lance could be one of them. 

What Keith really wants — _ aches _ , really — to do, is cradle Lance’s face in his hands, kiss the tip of his nose, then his lips and tell him that it’s okay. He’s still breathing, would be breathing for a long time to come, if Keith had a say in that. And he’d say, _ it’s okay, I’m here, you’re not alone I’m here. _

But he _ can’t _ , so he speaks his mind. “I should have been there.” He squeezes his eyes closed and clenches his fist. “I should’ve been _ there _ . With— with _ you _. And not-“ 

Before he can even finish his sentence, Lance closes the space between them and grabs Keith’s face in his hands. It forces Keith’s eyes open and brings a flush to his cheeks. Because— Lance is _ close _. 

Lance is also glaring down at him. “Don’t talk like that,” he says. “You being there might have changed things, but you can’t be sure. Maybe it would’ve only gone worse, or exactly the same.” His eyes flit between Keith’s, searching for any sign that he’s coming through to Keith. “You _ can’t _regret your actions, Keith. Because as soon as you do that, you’re never going to live peacefully again.” He drops his hands, Keith had to swallow a small noise of disappointment down.

Lance’s hands have left his face, but his eyes haven’t. He smiles down at Keith for a few more seconds before his gaze turns wistful and he cranes his head back to look at the sky again.

Keith doesn’t know what to say. Isn’t sure _ how _ Lance just turned that conversation into him comforting Keith instead of the other way around, but does know that he feels very comforted. The warm feeling in his chest spreads down his arm and settles in the silver lines on his inner wrist. 

He’s just opening his mouth to say something, anything, maybe thank Lance, when—

“Do you ever think about the future?” Lance bows his head. His brown eyes are shining with unshed tears, but sharp as knives as they bore into Keith’s.

Keith blinks in confusion. The future? “The… the future?” What is he talking about?

“Yeah.” Lance sniffs once, trails his eyes up a tree’s trunk until they settle on the sky again. The dark purple sky, littered with tiny specks of stars and the hint of a lilac moon. 

Keith watches the white specks against the brown sky of Lance’s eyes. His wrist tingles. 

“Like,” Lance continues, unknowing to the serene warmth that has settled in Keith’s gut at the sight of his calmth. “What do we do when all of this is over?” His eyes slowly trail down until they meet Keith’s. “Where do we go?” 

_ Where do we go? _ Keith wants to say, _ we’ll go home. _And so he does. 

“Home,” Lance echoes. He seems to like it, lips curl up in the tiniest smile. “Home.” He nods and continues walking. 

Keith watches for a moment as Kosmo perks up at their movement and happily wags his tail at Lance. Lance’s back is towards him as he walks out of the clearing, back into the mysterious forest. 

_ Home, _ Keith thinks. He wants to ask, _ what is your home? Is it earth? With your family? Was it the Castle of Lions? _ And, secretly, he wonders, _ am I your home? Like you are mine? _

(He doesn’t say

—_ I’m not sure I have a home. _

_ —I’m not sure I have a future to go home to. _

But he thinks it, all the same.) 

  


_ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ i kept running for a soft place to fall ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ _

  


It’s an hour later that the three of them leave the last tree behind them. They had already passed the clearing where they’d landed their lions, had left for the motel after grabbing the last of their things from inside the lions. And, to Keith’s pleasant surprise, it hadn’t been an hour filled with awkward silences and nervous glances shot each other’s way. Instead, they’d passed the time talking about… Keith can’t even remember. 

He thinks those are the best conversations — the ones that are so easy, at the end of it you don’t know what you talked about, all you’re left with is a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your chest. 

Shiro’s waiting for them in front of the motel. It’s an idyllic picture. His white hair and pale complexion lit up a soft purple as the moon shines down upon him. Kosmo bounds up to him and gives him a lick to his cheek, which Shiro accepts with a loud laugh. 

It brings a smile to Keith’s face. It’s been a while since he’s seen his brother this relaxed and carefree. This happy. 

“Hey, guys,” Shiro says as he scratches a happy Kosmo behind his big ears. “Nice walk?” His eyes flit between the two Paladins and he smiles too happily.

Lance nods as he climbs up the motel’s porch. “Yup. Forest’s real calming at night.” He briefly smiles over his shoulder at Keith and says, “And the company was good. So.” 

Keith would really want to say he’s above this — three years of having a crush (because, yes, that’s all this is) on this boy really should’ve at least made it easier having these kinds of comments directed at him. And yet. His cheeks pinken and he subtly rubs his wrist against his thigh. 

His brother’s eyebrows shoot up and he presses his lips together as he looks at Keith.

Keith rolls his eyes. Jesus Christ, Shiro. 

Luckily, Shiro can at least keep his _ thoughts _ to himself. He hums and says, “Sounds nice, guys.” Then he straightens, shoots a gaze at the sky, where the moon now hangs proud and high. “You guys ready to turn in?” 

Lance chuckles and stretches his arms above his head. “Hell yeah. Some shut-eye does sound good.” 

Keith nods in agreement. “It’s been a long day.”

With a last pat to Kosmo’s head, Shiro nods and turns to open the doors. “After you.” 

Lance mutters a soft _ thank you _ as he steps into the softly lit lobby of the motel. He nods to the greyish alien who’s scribbling aggressively behind the counter, and shrugs when she doesn’t seem to notice him. 

As Keith starts forward to follow him, he feels a hand clamp down on his shoulder and squeeze gently. He turns his head to find Shiro looking down at him with a smile that’s this weird mixture of proud and shit-eating. 

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” he says. Then he shoves Keith’s shoulder, ignoring the harsh glare and muttered _ asshole _ Keith shoots his way, and closes the door behind them as he snickers softly. 

Lance leads the way towards the only hallway at the end of the foyer. A door to the right tells them that beyond it lay the staff’s quarters, so left they go. 

There are nine doors lining both sides of the hall, and a set of stairs at the back of it that lead to the upper story. When Lance and Keith hesitate — both unsure which doors are theirs — Shiro pushes past them and leads the way to second-to-last door on the right. He swipes a purple card over a panel, and the door makes a happy sound as it slides open. 

The soft yellow lights in the room flicker on, and Keith quickly takes in the furniture. It’s futuristic, as most alien species’ furniture tends to be, but doesn’t seem expensive. A small dresser is pushed against the right wall next to the door that he guesses will lead to the bathroom. A big window sits in the wall across the door, and the bed— 

Keith does a double take. There’s only one bed. A queen sized bed for them to… share? 

His eyes flit to Lance next to him, cheeks already warming up at the thought of sleeping under the same blanket as Lance. _ His soulmate. _

A shot of warmth seems to light up the words on his wrist and Keith deflated. 

Right.

Just because Keith is Lance’s soulmate, doesn’t mean Lance wants them to sleep in the same bed. It doesn’t even mean Keith is Lance’s soulmate too, but that’s a thought so big and terrifying he shoves it to the back of his mind. 

“Good night, kids,” Shiro says. Keith doesn’t miss the suggestive smirk Shiro sends him before the door slides shut behind him. 

Lance takes a few steps into the room and checks the door next to dresser — a bathroom like Keith had guessed. Lance’s eyebrows are furrowed confusedly, like he can’t figure out where the second bed is. 

Keith coughs and says, “Uhh. I can sleep on the floor.” He’s already moving to the bed and picking a few pillows off of it. “You can take the bed.” 

Lance squints his eyes like he’s trying to figure out Keith’s motive. “Yes, I can.” For a second Keith thinks Lance will let this go peacefully. But then again, this is Lance he’s talking about. “But no, I won’t.” And with that, he strides forward and curls his fingers around the edge of one of the pillows Keith is holding. 

When he pulls a little, Keith yanks it back. “Yes, you will.” He glares at Lance. “I’ll take the floor, I’ve slept on worse.” 

“Oh,” Lance scoffs, and pulls the pillow back, “so you’re saying my back is weak?” 

Keith’s brows furrow. That’s not at all what he was saying. “That’s not- I just think it’s better than sleeping in one bed.” And he takes the pillow back. 

Lance’s eyes blow wide and his mouth gapes in dramatic fashion. “So, you don’t want to share a bed with me because I’m weak.” He pulls on the pillow again and Keith can hear the fabric groan under the strain. 

“I want to share a bed with you!” Yank. 

“Then why don’t you?” Pull. 

“Fine. I will!” 

“Fine!”

It doesn’t quite register in Keith’s brain that he just told his crush that he wants to share a bed with him until he closes the bathroom door after himself. He presses his back to the door and curls his fingers around his wrist. He rips his gloves off and looks at the silver words on his wrist. 

_ We are a good team. _

He clenches his fist and clutches his aching wrist to his chest. 

  


_ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ take me by the hand take me somewhere new ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ _

  


It’s already dark when Lance returns from the bathroom. 

Keith is buried under his half of the blanket, the soft thing is pulled up to his nose and he’s turned resolutely to the wall so he won’t have to face Lance. He listens to the other paladin shuffle around the room as he places his stuff back and turns off the light. Keith can hear the rustling of the blinds as Lance goes to close them, but stops. Lance sighs long and deep. Keith doesn’t dare open his eyes. 

Then the other side of the bed finally dips, and the blankets get tugged on as Lance settles next to him. 

They lay in silence for a few minutes. Keith is awfully aware of the breathing body next to him. His wrist tingles pleasantly.

He opens his eyes and looks into the dark. The lilac moon and her white stars are the only source of light. 

Lance shifts next to him and he sighs. Keith doesn’t dare turn around. He clenches his hand around his wrist tightly, even though the fabric of his gloves won’t allow any of the letters to be seen. He wills his breathing to slow down, but his heart is pounding in his chest. 

“Keith? Are you awake?” 

_ No, _ Keith wants to say. But he sighs through his nose, releases his wrist and slowly turns around. Lance is already facing him. Eyes glinting in the moonlight. He stays silent as he watches Lance’s face. The shadows that highlight his features and make him look otherworldly but beautiful.

“Do you ever miss Earth?” Lance whispers. His hands lay underneath his cheeks and Keith watches the golden skin catch silver moonlight. 

He averts his eyes. He would really like this question to have an easy ‘yes’ answer. Because he should miss Earth, right? He’s lived there for most of his life. His childhood lays within its deserts and all his loved ones are tied to it. But, now that he thinks about it. _ Really _thinks about it. He might… not miss it that much. 

There were good things. Like the desert. Like every sunrise above desert planes and the cocos milkshakes from McDonalds. The boy that always shared his cat stickers with Keith, and the lady from one of his homes who would sneak him an extra piece of bread with a wink. 

His father’s crinkling eyes as he smiled and his big, warm hands that were strong enough to catch Keith— 

He misses moments. People. Memories. But does he miss the planet? Without those memories and those people, would he go back there? He supposes he wouldn’t. 

He shakes his head softly. “I don’t think so,” he whispers. He thinks any sound louder than that might tear the fabric of their night. 

Lance blinks slowly. Then nods, seemingly accepting the answer. His eyes flit to the dark ceiling and he seems deep in thought. “You were lonely, weren’t you?” 

Keith’s breath hitches. His hands clench into fists and he has to fight against the heavy feeling of tears. 

Because, yes. He had been lonely. He had been a lonely child with no parents, no siblings, no grandparents, no anyone. His temper, poor clothes the homes would provide him, and his long hair, had made his classmates steer away from him. In their eyes, he was weird and mean. 

“Oh god, I’m sorry.” Lance shuffles closer carefully. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.” 

Keith lifts his eyes and smiles. “It’s okay,” he says. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard it. And anyways, it’s true.” It indeed wasn’t the first he’s heard it, and it was true. But something about the situation — something about Lance being his soulmate and the moon in his eyes and their little pocket in the universe made the words feel heavier than they ever had. 

“I’m sorry, Keith.” Lance’s eyes are sad. Why are his eyes sad? “I wish I could have been there for you sooner.” 

Keith closes his eyes. _ We are a good team. I wish I could have been there for you sooner. _ His wrist aches. _ I love you, _he doesn’t say. “Me too.” His voice softer than a whisper. The two of them fall silent again. It’s not loaded, not uncomfortable, but Keith doesn’t like it. “But it’s okay. I found my- my mom. And Shiro is back. So, I’m not. Lonely. Anymore.” His last few words settle heavy in his chest. 

Lance doesn’t seem to really buy his claim. Keith can’t be surprised. The red paladin nods and his eyes dart to the window. A cloud has drifted in front of the moon. “How is your mom?” The question is asked tentatively, as if there’s a double meaning Lance wants him to catch onto, but be able to cast aside if he wishes it so. 

“She’s good. Adjusting.” Keith nods. His fingers play with the broidered pattern of see-through flowers on his pillow. “The space whale was…” he trails off. 

The space whale was… horrible. Awful and terrifying. There were creatures he’d never seen before and wishes he’d never seen. Basic hygiene and privacy were unheard of, and the flashes of his past and future were unerasable. And to go through all of that with his mother, the one person who had indirectly and unknowingly caused him so much hurt and the very loneliness Lance had just asked him about, it had been… 

“Horrible,” he finishes. He releases a short breath that could have been a laugh and chances a look at Lance, hoping to find an amused grin on his face. 

Instead, Lance is looking at him with concern. “Why? What happened?” 

Keith can’t take those brown eyes looking at him like that and turns to lay on his back. His arms are folded over his stomach and his thumb brushes his soulmark softly. “Do you remember that one camping trip Coran took us on back when we’d just found our lions?” 

He doesn’t look at Lance, but can hear the brush of his cheek and hair against the pillow as he nods. 

“It was like that,” Keith says, “but worse, and it lasted for two years.” 

Lance stays silent and Keith takes it as his cue to continue telling about his past two years. He closes his eyes and continues.

“It was… cold and it rained almost constantly. We had to build a home out of leaves and sticks until we found a little cave. We slept on leaves and moss and washed ourselves in a small stream.” He swallows, remember how his back was frozen every time he woke up and he had to move carefully to warm the muscles back up again after sleeping on the floor. “And there were these… _ flashes _.” He almost hisses at the word. “And they- they showed us glimpses of our past and future.” 

Next to him, Lance gasps softly. “You…” he swallows, “saw your future?” 

Slowly, Keith nods. “Small parts of it. Like photographs.” 

_ Two hands, fingers intertwined, swayed back and forth. The ring’s gem caught the setting sun’s light. _

_ A hand shoving blonde hair out of a laughing kid’s face. Her gapped smile and blue eyes aimed up. _

_ Flashing lights of an ambulance as old bones and stiff muscles tried to keep up. _

_ Rain and pillow forts and hot chocolate. _

_ The words on his weathered wrist, skin wrinkly and old as they finally lose their glow. _

“Did you see me?” Lance asks. 

Keith looks over, sensing the grin in Lance’s voice. “Yes.”

“Oohh.” Lance shifts, so he’s leaning on his elbow, making Keith look up at him. “And what was I doing?” 

_ Lance’s laugh, loud and boisterous as it echoed through the hall of a house. Of a home. _

_ Lance’s soft smile as he brushes a strand of dark hair behind an ear. Brown eyes dripping with love. _

_ The ring on Lance’s hand, golden and simple. Unreadable glowing silver words laid bare on his wrist as his hand moves. _

Keith shrugs. “Dumb things. Like always.” He means for it to come out low and teasing. Something for Lance to latch onto and fire back from. 

But it comes out flat and strained. 

Lance deflates. “Sounds like me,” he says. And it’s all wrong. His voice is low and sad, and the chuckle he forces out afterwards makes Keith’s heart ache. 

Keith turns around so he’s back on his side facing Lance. Only the other boy is still supporting himself on his elbow and Keith is suddenly hit with the realization of how Lance is practically towering over him like this. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” When he doesn’t get an answer, he pokes Lance’s cheek with his finger. “I didn’t mean it like that, Lance.” He draws his hand back and barely resists the gasp that wants to slip past his lips when those brown eyes find his own. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, Lance.” 

And he wants to elaborate. Wants to tell him all the ways he finds Lance smart. Wants to tell him how much he admires Lance for his strategic skills. How much he wishes others would see it too. But the words would lose their meaning. Trampled by all the big confessions. Sometimes, less is more, Keith guesses. 

Lance holds eye contact, seems to search for the barest trace of a lie in Keith’s eyes. He won’t find it. In the end, he huffs and sinks down to lay flat on his side again. “Thanks, Keith.” His smile is soft and thankful and so full of a shy warmth Keith has never seen before. He decides he likes it. 

“So, your mom,” Lance starts again, “what did she think of it?” 

Keith shrugs. “I don’t really know. She’s…” he worries his lip between his teeth. “She’s sweet. Tried to do everything right and bond with me. But…” he stops himself. He’s never voiced any of these things out loud. Isn’t sure he knows how to say it. “But it’s hard.” He finally looks up at Lance again, willing him to understand without him having to say everything. 

Lance nods. “It’s hard to suddenly work and live so closely with someone you don’t know.” He frowns, seemingly struggling with his thoughts. “With someone you don’t know, but _ should _ because… she’s your _ mom _.” 

Bullseye. They don’t call Lance the sharpshooter for nothing.

Keith nods in agreement, because _yes_, that was exactly what it had been like. There had been this _pressure_ to like and understand each other, to suddenly be best friends and bond over all their insecurities. Because she’s his _mother_. 

But that’s not how it works. Because every time Keith looked at his mom, he sees himself. Sees himself in her eyes, her lips, her smile down to the dimple in her left cheek. But he also sees the child who thought his mother didn’t love him, hadn’t wanted him. He sees a kid who doesn’t know how to make friends in a home with other mom-less people. He sees a teenager so detached from caring about other people and being cared _ for _, that he’s all alone on his first day of High School. No one to take him there, make his lunch or wait for him at home for his stories. 

And suddenly, this person he’s missed his entire life is there. Willing to lay down her life for him. 

It will just take Keith a little longer to catch up. 

And Lance… understands that. Guessed it right from just the barest minimum of words Keith offered. Keith’s wrist tingles pleasantly. 

“Yes,” Keith says, nodding as he tries not to let the tears be evident in his voice, “that’s exactly what it was like.” 

Lance frowns, eyes flitting over Keith’s face. “And it’s okay to not be okay with that.” His fingers twitch on the sheets. Keith wants him to reach out and card a hand through his hair. “No one expects you to be okay with that.” 

Keith closes his eyes and breathes out shakily. All this time he’d felt guilty for not being as happy about finding his mom as he thought he should have been. He’d called himself ungrateful for wishing he’d never met her so he wouldn’t be so damn _ confused _ anymore. 

He’s trying to force the tears down. But something about all of this, about Lance laying so close to him, saying the exact right things to make him feel better. It’s something about the night sky and the lavender moon that makes it impossible for Keith not to let a tear slip from his lashes. 

He sniffs softly as the next tear escapes. His nose is pressed into the pillow and when he comes up for air he finds Lance’s soft gaze on him. Brown eyes silently regarding him in the dark. Slowly, Lance shifts closer until his bent knees hit Keith’s. His hand reaches out and he seems to hesitate for a few seconds. Keith looks up at him. 

Slowly, as if hesitant to see Keith’s reaction, Lance’s hand lowers until it is placed on top of Keith’s head. 

Keith continues to sniffle softly as Lance’s thumb starts to gently stroke his hair. The movements evolve as the tears keep coming. The metaphorical dam inside Keith’s mind has broken down. Its carefully built structure torn down by Lance’s well-aimed words. And all it shielded from the world comes rolling down into his soulmate’s waiting arms.

Keith’s wrist itches.

  


_ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ i know a place we could go ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ _

  


Lance’s hand, fingers long and soft, sifts through Keith’s hair. The motions slow and almost hypnotizing. 

Keith’s wrist aches and his eyes sting. 

He’d forgotten how fucking tiring crying really is.

He sighs softly. His eyes are closed as he focuses solely on the tingling sensations the words on his wrist send through his body, and the methodical movements of Lance’s fingers through his hair. 

“Lance?” he finally croaks out, eyes blinking through the stickiness of salty tears. He looks up at the other boy. The moon is still up. Endless lavender playing with his dark complexion and brown eyes. The stars finding a home inside his eyes. He takes Keith’s breath away. “Thank you,” he says. 

Lance just smiles. His eyes sparkling with too much adoration for Keith to take in. “You don’t need to thank me,” Lance says. His hand twitches in Keith’s hair. “I’m your friend. It’s what friends do.” 

Friends.

_ We are a good team. _

Fuck. 

Keith closes his eyes again. Too drained to cry again, even if he had wanted to. 

He lays there. Eyes closed and imagining pulling off his gloves and showing the glowing silver words on his inner wrist. Imagines Lance’s shocked face and the hesitant smile that would replace the soft one as he’d have to reject Keith. Tell him that, sorry, my wrist doesn’t glow for you. Of course, he’d still hold Keith as he’d cry. 

That’s what would hurt the most. Seemingly being handed the very thing he craves for - someone to _ love _\- but knowing it can never be. 

“Do you ever…” Lance starts. He is silent long enough for Keith to look up. The long fingers start their rhythm through Keith’s hair again. “Do you ever get scared of not…” Lance’s eyes fall down to where his hand touches Keith’s head. His eyebrows crease and Keith holds his breath. “Of never finding your soulmate?” Brown eyes cut to meet Keith’s grey ones.

_ We are a good team. _

Keith’s fingers clench around the blanket. 

His wrist aches. 

_I already have._ _I have found him. _

“I…” Keith doesn’t know where to look. Settles for the tiny mole right beneath Lance’s right eye. “Not… not really.” His voice is a mutter at best. 

It seems to deflate Lance. He’s silent for a moment, no doubt putting one and one together. Keith holds his breath. “Have you…” Lance starts, “have you found them already?” 

It’s not a topic most people are very open about. Wrists stay covered up more often than not — Keith’s gloves and the water-resistant band-aid on Lance’s skin are examples. It’s only afterwards, when the two souls have found their matching words that the bindings come off and the marks are almost flounded with. 

Keith cradles his wrist to his chest, curling the fingers of his hand, as if creating an extra layer of protection. He nods softly. “Yeah,” he breathes. 

Lance’s swallow is audible. The stroking stops and Keith watches as the other boy retracts his hand and curls it into his chest in a mirroring position of Keith. Lance shuffles until he’s eye to eye with Keith, both laying on their side. “You don’t have to answer but…” his eyes flit from where Keith’s hold tightens around his wrist and back to his eyes. “Do they not… love you back?” 

And Keith is… surprisingly calm. He’s waited three years and a lifetime for this moment, he’d thought it would end in him crying his soul out. But a strange sort of steadiness seems to wash over him. He unleashes his wrist and lays it between them on the sheets. He breathes softly before he says, “I don’t think they know.” 

The confused frown on Lance’s face is adorable enough to make Keith want to reach over and press his lips to it. “Why don’t you tell them?” 

Keith shrugs, a smile playing with his lips. He looks down at his wrist. The silver words that once left their place within Lance to find a home on the delicate skin of Keith’s wrist, are still carefully covered under his glove. “Because I love him.” He looks up at Lance.

Looks at his brown eyes, warm and familiar. The scar that runs through his left eyebrow where a Galra had almost cost him his eye. He looks at the small mole underneath his right eye, the splatter of faint freckles on his nose and cheeks. His eyes trace the angles of his collarbones and the slope of his broad shoulders. 

He thinks, _ yeah _ , _ I love him _. 

And for once, that thought doesn’t scare him. 

Lance’s lips purse. “Shouldn’t you tell him _ because _ you love him?” 

Keith shakes his head. He smiles up at Lance. “No. It’s okay. I can love him from the sidelines.” And it is. It is okay. He can be happy, knowing his soulmate, _ Lance _, is happy. It’s enough for him. 

“Isn’t that lonely?” Lance’s fingers twitch and his eyes trail over Keith’s face, wanting to find any sign that Keith is not okay. 

Keith shrugs and looks down at Lance’s hands as he says, “Maybe. But I’m used to being on my own.” 

Lance shuffles closer. Their pulled-up knees brush together. “I don’t… want you to be.” 

A thousand stories lay, ready to take root and sprout words, within the soil of Lance’s eyes. Swirling and flashing around in an attempt to find the right words, the right sentences. Keith watches as they grow bigger, catch the light of the moon and use it. He watches the emotions Lance goes through in those few seconds. Watches the _ what ifs _ and _ could’ve beens _. 

“What do you mean?” Keith asks softly.

Lance’s eyes flit up to his, slightly blown wide and scared as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. “I- I mean.” Keith watches him flounder for a bit before Lance finds proper footing and something settles in his eyes. “I think…” A soft breath slips from between his lips. Keith feels it against the inside of his hand. His fingers twitch. 

Lance’s eyes are on him. Trailing over his face, searching for- _something_. And Keith wants to give it to him — would give anything to him, if asked — but doesn’t know _how_. When Lance reaches out, and his hand presses to the side of his face, cupping his cheek gently (and he _keeps_ _looking_ at Keith) it’s Keith’s turn to gasp. 

“Lance-” he says. But before he can even decide what he’s going to say, Lance goes-

“I think you’re my soulmate.” 

And Keith knows, logically, that time doesn’t stop. The girl behind the motel’s desk will keep scribbling angrily in her notebook, Shiro will keep muttering softly to himself on the other side of the hallway, and the moon will continue to spin in her planet’s orbit. Time doesn’t stop, but in that moment it feels like nothing exists but them. Keith’s entire world consists of Lance. 

“I’m your-” 

But Lance marches forward. “You don’t have to say anything. I know it’s unrequited. And I’m not even sure. I mean-” He reaches and pulls back the sleeve of his shirt, rips the special bandaid off with enough force to make Keith wince. Lance grabs his own wrist and holds it up into the moonlight. He bites his lip before his eyes find Keith’s again, flit back down one more time before he turns his wrist around for Keith to see. “I don’t remember saying it to you. Or to- to anyone, actually.” 

As Lance rambles on about hearing Keith and others mention the phrase around him, Keith zones out. Because there, on the inside of the most vulnerable part of Lance’s body lay the words to Keith’s heart. 

_ We are a good team. _

_ We are a good team. _

_ We are a good team. _

“Lance,” Keith says. But Lance keeps talking, cheeks flushed and thumb rubbing circles into his wrist, on top of the silver words. “Lance,” he says again. “_ Lance _.” 

Lance looks up. Lips parted. Cheeks flaming. And heart laid out between them on the bed. Ready for Keith to stamp on it, or cradle it and give it a home. 

Keith smiles. “I’m yours, too.” And shows him the words engraved in his own skin.

  


_ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ when two become one, all the clocks in the world will stop, because the love is too much ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ _

  


To Keith, it all seems so painfully obvious.

The way they are so obviously made for each other. How they fit together so well. Bodies and hands entangled and sprawled out over the sheets of the futuristic alien motel bed. An unfamiliar sun peering through their windows and lighting up the room with her soft lilac rays. 

Keith lifts their intertwined hands close to his face. Twists them this way and that, and watches the sun play games with the silver ink of their wrists. 

_ We are a good team, _ the ink tells him.

And, Keith smiles. Because, yes, they are.

**Author's Note:**

> sooooo that was it!! let me know what you thought in the comments and leave kudos if you liked it <3
> 
> also. my [twitter](https://twitter.com/lvecean) if you want to see previews of next fics or want to see me scream about klance :) 
> 
> ilysm thanks for reading!!!!
> 
> these are the links to all the songs i used lyrics of:  
[you in my heart by twice](https://open.spotify.com/track/3djLu1APqP5XVbD3RewVb8)  
[gravity by eden](https://open.spotify.com/track/4gUQmfnDAS7wwH0pzOH3Fb)  
[runaway by aurora](https://open.spotify.com/track/1v1oIWf2Xgh54kIWuKsDf6)  
[i'm with you by avril lavigne](https://open.spotify.com/track/1jlG3KJ3gdYmhfuySFfpO1)  
[i know a place by conan gray](https://youtu.be/DIqngAXHzTI)


End file.
